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                    SPARKS RISE FROM RUIN:
                     SALUTATIONS LETTER. 𖥠

The world has collapsed into shadow. Joy is a memory, and trust has turned to ash. Yet even here, in the silence after the storm, we speak, not to comfort, but to remind: something still breathes beneath the rubble. A FLICKER &. PULSE. A stubborn will to endure. Those we hold close: @TheHansley, @TheAusteense, @TheDoucheron, @sethlore, @MertzlanFamilia, @Monarchyson, @TheWyrmharrow, @REBELISSUE, @SylvanOth, @Delmeist. Even as the sky darkens and hope seems like a cruel illusion, don’t let it die completely. Let it hurt, let it tremble, but let it live. For in every ruin, there remains a story. All for night, all for the consequences.

“And if it lives, so do we!” ── So rise, even if it’s only to crawl. Love, even if all you have left is ashes. For in that defiance, there is still a future waiting to be reclaimed.

We were here,
@HOUSEOFEYRE.
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           THE NIGHTERTALE SORGHUM
       (20—24: Foreseen Presence at 3AM.)

  Oh, bury  your visage  in worry.  Something
  grievous will hunt its craved place to carry.
  Moreover  with  plausible  preparation,  no
  flint could thwart this mandate. Don’t pray
  for  idyllic slumber  nor  amped mare, they
  will be poured with the phantom of an owl
  instead. To  fright  the gloom of  dusklight,
  you  don’t have  a cave to  hide in,  do you?
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